Three Best Friends
by Imagen99
Summary: Hermione may not have many friends, but all she does need are her three best ones.


_I Own Nothing! Thanks again to Absidoodle. :)_

Hermione stared longingly at the quickly retreating figure of her best friend, and then sighed. She briefly rubbed her eyes before continuing on with her work. She was only a few months into her sixth year, and already she had tonnes of work to do. Usually she found that she ploughed through the work with relative ease and still had time to spare, but recently Ron's aloof and moody behaviour had left her puzzled and unable to concentrate and she was getting behind.

She just didn't understand why on earth he suddenly seemed so distant. True, things had never been perfect between them and they had had their fair share of arguments and bickering, but she always could talk to him when she needed to. Now he just seemed…awkward and angry around her. Almost as soon as they were alone, he hurried off to complete yet another pointless task, and Hermione couldn't help feeling a little hurt. She missed him, his comforting presence and listening ear. For as long as she could remember, Hermione had been able to talk straight with Ron. He'd listen to her, and he was one of the few who wouldn't be judgemental or nasty about her thoughts. He was talented at it; even when he couldn't understand her fears, he would always try and eventually they would get there. But his recent nasty attitude left her with no one to vent her feelings to.

Harry was an almost unwanted alternative. It wasn't that she didn't love him; it was that he wasn't Ron. He didn't listen as attentively, or try as hard to help her, and despite herself Hermione always felt guilty unloading her problems on him. Harry already had too much to deal with, and he needed someone strong to help him. And so Hermione was at a loss for what to do.

She urgently needed to talk to someone about how she felt. Her parents weren't an option, they didn't know enough about what had happened and was happening in the wizarding world; Harry was out; Ron was being distant; and Hermione had no other close friends. She could feel the building pressure at the back of her head, sitting there like an unwanted weight, but deciding to deal with the issue later, she desperately tried to ignore it. Scribbling the words harder onto the parchment in front of her, she absentmindedly ignored the bell that normally stated it was curfew. She frowned angrily at the paper as all of her problems whizzed around her head, enveloping her thoughts and distracting her from the thought she just had about the use of moonstone in potions... Pressing harder onto the paper, angry that she'd forgotten, she winced as her quill snapped. Ink flew everywhere. In the heat of the moment she uttered some curses that would've shocked her past self, and drew her wand to clear up the mess, jabbing it irritably at the pool of ink. Instead of attempting to carry on with her work, an obvious lost cause, she deliberated on what she could do next to solve her obvious problem.

She sluggishly hauled herself over to the squidgy armchair closest to the fireplace and curled up, massaging her temples and screwing up her face, staring moodily at the wall. However she instantly became alert when her face was covered by a piece of bushy orange fur, punctuated by a squashed nose. Hermione blinked open her amber eyes and stared into the deep brown ones of her familiar.

"Crookshanks?" She croaked, and was greeted by her pet nuzzling her face and purring lightly. He continued to nuzzle her softly even as she sat up, and as Hermione looked into his soft eyes she imagined he was asking her what was bothering her.

She hesitated briefly, and then remembered how he had always been beside her faithfully. Even in her third year when Harry and Ron abandoned her he'd stayed with her, and she decided to try. He was a smart cat after all, he'd understand everything. So she opened her mouth and poured out her heart, still scratching his ears lightly.

"I honestly can't tell you anything specific, Crookshanks. I guess I just need to talk about it. Would you mind?"

He affectionately purred his answer, and she scooped him up into her arms and began to whisper. "Well…you can't tell anyone else this. No-one." She waited for his answer before continuing slowly. "I'm…frightened, Crookshanks. I'm scared about everything that's going on, this new dawn for the wizarding world. I'm scared that Harry's going to be in the middle of it and most of all I'm scared that when we do eventually get involved – which we will have to – that someone I love is going to be lost. I try to prepare them, for that and for the fights with magic, but… Week after week Harry goes to Dumbledore to prepare, but he isn't teaching him anything defensive at all! Occulemency isn't working for Harry either, and I'm scared that Voldemort will hurt him again. With every time the sun rises on a happy, well-rested Harry, I feel so relieved…and every time the sun goes down, I toss and turn until exhaustion makes me sleep, thinking about him in the next dorm. I know that whatever happens will happen, but I can't help worrying. And then there's Ron…" The furry bundle in her arms let out a light growl at the mention of his enemy, but continued purring after Hermione resumed stoking his fur. She opened her mouth, and then slumped slightly. "Ron…I don't know what to do about him. One day he's so sweet, but the next he acts as if I've done something completely wrong! I just don't understand him, Crookshanks! He acts like he hates me. I was going to ask him to Professor Slughorn's ball, but now…I just don't want to. He might say no. And that would hurt, so much." As she spoke her voice became quieter and quieter, until finally she was whispering. There were a few moments of silence before Crookshanks began to fidget. Her familiar's resounding purr startled her from her thoughts. He stared at her woeful eyes before he began rubbing his fur against her in slow soothing motions.

Hermione suddenly felt a rush of affection for her cat. Cooing, she scratched his ears and wiped her eyes. "Thanks for that, I needed it." She whispered softly before she left, disappearing back up the winding staircase towards the girl's dorm.

Most people would tell you that Hermione Granger had two best friends her entire life, but the real fact was that a third was always in the shadows, waiting for the time he was needed, and he would forever be there.

_Because pets are the best listeners, and even better secret keepers. 3_


End file.
